Mild January

After two and a half weeks, the boys finally went back to school today. Rowan had his shorts on, which is part testament to his preference for short trousers for school but also an indication of how mild the weather has been for the last week. It was ten degrees when I dropped the boys off this morning.

It's warmer than that in Florida. Sharon is in Miami for the PC Executive Directors' Conference, having eventually arrived on Sunday after leaving here on Friday. She stayed with Nina on Friday night but their flight from Heathrow on Saturday was delayed for hours and eventually cancelled, after they had already boarded it. Between that and the barking cough she finally caught from the rest of us (Angus started the cycle the week before Christmas), she was feeling pretty grotty by the time she arrived but had a walk on the beach yesterday morning and face-timed the boys later in the day.

Marie and Michael arrived on Thursday to help out with the logistics of minding the boys this week. It was Marie's birthday on Friday and Michael's on Sunday. Nana was presented with a cake baked and decorated by Sean. Papa had to make do with some gingerbread offcuts decorated in abstract style by Angus. We had a very muddy walk around the Cammo estate on Saturday morning. Both Angus and Rowan had to be lifted out of their boots at different points in the walk, having literally become bogged down.

The Christmas decorations came down on Sunday, with the tree dumped at the Klondyke Garden Centre. As in the Julia Donaldson book, the house feels less of a squash and a squeeze once the extra clutter is removed.

Home and rain

Action stations! With the last of the packing done, and an odd assortment of foods for breakfast and packed for snacks, we got in the cars a little late, bade a noisy farewell to the Threlfalls and trundled off down the hill for the final time. The villa was good value and the boys loved the pool but the lack of air-conditioning and numerous marching columns of ants would maybe make us think twice about booking it again. We didn't get the value out of the car hire (about £470 for ten days) so a taxi transfer (reckioned to be about €50-€70 one way) might have been better but it would have caused some logistical problems getting going anywhere as one car and two adults doesn't cut it unless you have a third adult to mind children during a shuttle operation.

The drive to the airport was swift but the wait for the transfer bus was a little fraught as other families begain to jostle for position and the clock ticked down. We got on though and whilst we'd cut it a little fine at least we didn't have too wait too long at the airport. Only a short delay, thankfully, and then we were off back to Blighty. We touched down in Manchester, negotiated the snaking passport queue relatively quickly and had our car returned to us promptly.

We bade farewell to Sharon who had the dubious pleasure of heading for the train to Birmingham to immediately embark on the Pampered Chef conference. I raced up the M6, pausing for an hour and dinner and then running into the filthy weather that is still sweeping across the country with depressing frequency. We got home around 7.30pm and the boys were delighted to see their own rooms and belongings once more. It was a late bedtime as everyone had been dozing on and off on the drive home, but at least we were home and in our own beds.

Long haul to Mijas

After much excitement in the build-up to leaving, not helped by the atrocious weather which has kept the boys penned indoors for large parts of the week, we got up at 7am on Sunday and got the boys dressed, breakfasted and on the road south. With the Scottish school holidays in full swing, but the English ones yet to start, it made plenty sense to book flights from Manchester, as it was around £600-700 cheaper. The down side is a three and a half hour drive to England. Fortunately the torrential rains of the previous 24 hours had abated and driving conditions were much safer and easier than they might have been.

We stopped at Westmoreland services to appease Angus's cries and Finn's sore tummy. They had an excellent soft play area which afforded the boys a chance to let off steam along with their snack. Seventy five minutes later we were at Manchester Airport. We took advantage of the meet and greet Park and Go service and were soon through baggage check-in and security. At first there appeared to be just a bit of a delay to the flight departure and Rowan was becoming increasingly erratic in maintaining attention, running off, hiding under seats and generally not doing what he was told, which is always guaranteed to drive us daft.

Presently, however, it became apparent that there was more than a slight delay. The departure board changed to "More info at 1500" then 1600 then 1700. We should have been away at 1405. From looking out the gate window it appeared there was some sort of engine fault so I suppose we'd rather be on a late plane that flies that on a plane that doesn't get there at all. There was a soft play by the gate and the boys ran themselves ragged, especially Rowan and Angus, who was his usual sweaty self within minutes.

The delay afforded some viewing of the Wimbledon final elsewhere in the terminal. Andy Murray had become the first Briton in 74 years to make the final and was in with a chance of becoming the first Briton since the legendary Fred Perry in 1936 to win the title. He even took the first set off Roger Federer, perhaps the greatest player of the modern era. Alas, as soon as I started watching (not that I'm overly superstitious as a sports spectator, but my viewing of Murray inevitably seems to coincide with his downfall), Federer pinched the second set and a marathon game midway through the third on Murray's serve looked like it would be pivotal. By this time we were in a Frankie & Benny's restaurant, feeding the boys courtesy of meal vouchers from Monarch Airlines. Eventually we were told we would be leaving at 1745 and duly boarded a new plane that had flown in from Faro, only to then be told that fifty of the bags had been misplaced in the transfer and were now being located. It was around 1900 before we took off, some five hours late.

The boys were remarkably patient and relatively well behaved given the boredom of the delay. Finn did well on the flight, not getting too wound-up on take-off and Rowan and Angus were contained. But it was after 2300 local time as we approached southern Spain on a cloudless night. Angus looked out and said "Spain has sparkles on top" as he surveyed the night-lights from the air. Meantime, Andy Murray had lost to Federer, who had claimed his seventh Wimbledon title and his record 17th grand slam title in all.

Once the bags were collected we located our malagacar.com rep who directed us to a bus-stop from where we were transported to the car hire offices. I dealt with the paperwork while Sharon kept the boys amused with a snack out front. We picked up our two cars, a white Toyota Aris for Sharon and a smaller white Seat for me, and drove off into the night, heading west along the E-15 towards Fuengirola. I had Finn and Rowan with me and we managed the initial junctions well so that we made it along to the A-387 in good time before starting the low gear climb up to Mijas Pueblo. The road then took us above Mijas Pueblo, granting us a first glimpse of the spectacular view back down towards the coast as the Coin road wound around the spurs of the Sierra Mijas. From the west end of Mijas I was able to cut back to the edge of town then bear right down the hill and back up into the Urbanizacion Mijas La Nueva. A few bends later and we pulled into the dark, silent car park behind the Villa Cantarranas.

No sign of Sharon, who had left before me. Rowan and Finn were a bit spooked by the cicadas chirruping in the dark and I struggled to locate the key under various flowerpots around the outside of the house. I found it at last and was able to open the door and put on some much needed lights. Fortunately, Sharon arrived soon after, having missed a turn or two but, with Sean as navigator, she had managed to get back on track without too much trouble.

So, after midnight, we were able to get the luggage in, decide on who was sleeping where and have a brief look out from the balcony to the twinkling lights of the Costa del Sol laid out below us. Here's hoping for a peaceful and happy holiday.

Sharjah and home

Pete and Tracy are renting one of the many massive mansions that line the streets of the UAE. With four-metre high ceilings and plenty of floor space, it seemed big enough to fit our house into a couple of rooms. There is very little garden since, as Pete pointed out, looking after one is too much work in this climate. They have a small pool at the front and Jamie, Helen and Michelle have been making the most of it, their swimming improving on a daily basis. We ate out by the pool in the evening we arrived, the heat still warping the air.

On the Tuesday, I didn't venture out the house! I got into reading magazines and cookbooks and just enjoying having the time to do so, without worrying about shopping, cooking, cleaning or looking after the boys. That said, Helen adopted me as soon as she came home. We had to "draw wishes" in a Dora the Explorer annual. Unlike Rowan, her peer, Helen was very into writing and telling coherent stories (Rowan's tales usually descend into superheroes and baddies and abstract flights of fancy pretty quickly). Jamie is also an avid reader, unlike his peer Finn, who given the choice of sitting sucking his thumb or reading a book would take the digit option most times. Sometimes Sharon and I wonder if we are encouraging or pushing our boys hard enough academically. But they have to be want to do it.

We had a fantastic Sri Lankan curry in the evening cooked by Pete and Tracy's part-time housemaid earlier in the day and a relaxing drink in the lounge. Pete is working while we're over, unfortunately, so the evenings are his only chance to see us. Wednesday followed a similar vein to Tuesday, with Sharon continuing to pile through the Hunger Games trilogy while I began Stephen King's Dark Tower series.

Once the children were home we headed into downtown Sharjah where the university and administrative buildings were magnificent in their architecture, more classical and less glass and steel then in Dubai. Sharjah has its share of towering office blocks and apartments too. It's hard to believe that there are enough businesses and workers to fill all the office space. We stopped at the Blue Souq for a wander round the shops which were notably more local than the familiar names that populated the Mall of the Emirates in Dubai. Sharon eventually bought a camel soft toy for Finn. We earlier bought a pad for Sean and a toy "boom-box" for Angus that plays a selection of Arabic ditties. Rowan got some Ben 10 twistable pencils and Jumeirah wristbands (Rowan likes a wristband).

Next we drove closer to the coastal parts of the city, where docks and ports and tower-block lined drives swept round artifical bays. We stopped at the Al Qasba canal area to meet Pete while the kids played in the playpark, curiously juxtaposed with the concrete monoliths of surrounding multi-storeys. Dinner was a huge mezze of Middle Eastern dishes in a nearby restaurant - very tasty and extremely filling! We drove back to do some packing as we had a relatively early start on the Thursday morning. We bade our farewells and headed by taxi to Dubai airport. Despite the many lanes, progress to the airport was slow, speeding up slightly once we crossed into Dubai with its even more lanes.

Our flight was delayed inordinately on the runway, sitting for an hour and a quarter before we finally took off. Whilst not quite as comfortable as the A380, the 777 was still a pleasant ride as we made our way back up the Arabian Gulf, over Iraq and Turkey and across Europe to Britain. Such was the delay at Dubai our transfer from Terminal 3 to 1 was fraught and close to the cut-off time. Not surprisingly, one of the cases didn't make the transfer in time so were a case light when Michael picked us up at Edinburgh.

Edinburgh had been enjoying indifferent weather in our absence but the sun came out for our homecoming. The boys were delighted to see us, and us them. I was away from them for 11 days, which is the longest separation since Sean was born. Angus was running about the garden, soaked from the hose, as we dined on the patio. It was good to be home.

Dubai days one and two

Many's the time I've castigated the England cricket team (and other sporting emissaries from the UK on fruitless trips abroad) for their poor performance in locations such as Sri Lanka and India and Australia, unaware of just quite how debilitating it is to walk, let alone attempt to play sport at a high level, in 40-degree heat with a touch of humidity thrown in.

Well now I know. It has been incredibly hot here in the UAE, to the extent that doing nothing, or at the very least doing something in the safer and cooler confines of an air-conditioned interior, is the preferred option. We arrived after an extremely comfortably overnight Emirates flight from Heathrow (but with a minimum of sleep) and were processed through the first of many brand, spanking new buildings at Dubai Airport. The first taste of heat, at 0730, was as we left the terminal and moved to the coach for the transfer to the Madinat Mina A'Salam Hotel, part of the Jumeirah resort, looking out to the distinctive sail-like structure of the Burj Al Arab Hotel, the definitive landmark of Dubai tourism.

The drive from the airport along the Sheikh Zayed Road took us past the fabulous towers lining that 12-lane highway: tall, narrow structures fronted with tinted glass and subtle variations in angles and skeletal infrastructure but all dwarfing the street-level life that scurried around their roots. The unbelievable dimension of the world's tallest man made structure, the Burj Khalifa, rose behind them like some science-fiction space-port, growing ever narrower and climaxing in a needle-like mast that pierced the clouds some 828 metres above sea level.

More mundanely, we breakfasted by the channel that circumnavigates the Madinat hotels, realising how hot the day was becoming. Our rooms weren't ready till the afternoon, so we killed the time on the beach, sweltering under shades and trying to sleep without waking up roasted. "Ye's'll be like rashers," our Cork air-stewardess had pronounced succintly on the flight over. I dozed and sweated and got grumpy. Sharon just dozed and sweated. Some swam in the sea, which was a bit like swimming in warm soup on subsequent days but quite refreshing on this first day, exhilirating in the pounding surf. I didn't swim. I didn't want to even move. I got burnt in the few minutes heading to the toilet from the shade and the sand was liable to singe the flesh on your feet.

Eventually we got our room keys and moved tot he sanctuary of air-conditioned five-star hotel life. It was some 20 degrees cooler in the rooms. Opening the doors to the balcony was like opening an oven door, a thick stew of Arabian air challenging the cold air of the room. However, we didn't stay there for long (and besides, the hotel had misplaced our luggage) so we took a taxi with Anne-Marie to the Mall of the Emirates, the smaller of Dubai's vast shopping malls, to the Carrefour supermarket. Sharon was conscious of being underdressed (due to our luggage misplacement) having moved from private beach to public retail outlet and received a few disapproving looks from the white-clad Emiratis. As ever, the supermarket had a splendid selection of fruit and veg but elsewhere the mall displayed some very familiar names: from Next to Debenhams! Once loaded up with snacks and mixers, we queued for a taxi back to the hotel.

Our luggage finally appeared. After a brief rest, we dressed for the reception dinner. Despite the sun having gone down around 7pm, the air was no cooler. We crossed the road in front of the hotel entrance to the Fort area which was reminiscent of a Legoland Arabian-themed area set in a very warm climate. It's no use pining for authentic, quaint, original buildings in Dubai - the oldest structure in the city is reputedly 32 years old. The roll call of achievers was run through, with Hannah the top points earner and Tracy, another of Sharon's downline and a first time trip achiever, second. There was the usual exhortations to bigger and better things next year and then we attacked the buffet. Fortunately I was on water (and have been for some time, owing to the prevalance of gout attacks) as to drink alcohol in such temperatures would be to invite illness, in my view. Sharon didn't quite see it that way. In Dubai you cannot buy alcohol outside of hotels. There are no off-licences nor non-hotel bars as such, hence everyone had arrived with a healthy quota of duty-free purchases as the only places to drink were in hotel bars and restaurants or in private.

We had a great sleep in our vast bed. The air-conditioning was reasonably quiet and the temperature control was spot on. We met others down in the Mina A'Salam for breakfast then got on an abra, a small wooden boat holding about 8 passengers, for a tour of the resort. There are wonderful villas and gardens in our section of the Jumeirah resort, as well as two Hotels, the Mina A'Salam and the Al Qasr, a souk (market) and anywhere between 29 and 42 restaurants, according to the literature.

We alighted at the Madinat souk and once more escaped indoors. The high, vaulted ceilings of the interior meant the winding marketplace was pleasantly cool but I was still feeling rather worn out so I retired to the hotel room after a brief browse around the shops. Sharon went on and had a salad lunch. I dozed. Our next appointment was the "Old" Dubai tour, leaving the hotel at 3.15pm. We crossed the Dubai Creek to the older part of town, to the Gold Souk. Here we entered the darkened, L-shaped market where upwards of fifty jewellers and goldsmiths sell some of the 20% or so of the world's gold that is traded through Dubai. Many hawkers, vast choice of jewellry, no women to be seen; only men. To be honest, there is so much stuff it would be impossible to browse, even if you had the time, which we did not, being marched through at a fair lick. You really would have to know what you were looking for. The Gold Souk sells 18, 21 and 22-carat gold, the last being unusual and generally not to Western tastes, as it looks more yellow and "fake" than the paler, lower carat gold preferred by Europeans.

We moved on to the Spice Souk next which was more to our liking. Again, a couple of dark alleys full of shops with sacks of spices and dried fruits and herbs, a wonderful aroma filling the narrow lane. There were wonderful dried, black lemons which, when puncutured, released a deep citrus scent. We didn't get far before Sharon was in and conversing with a salesman who fairly shovelled the curry powder and vanilla pods into bags. A little obligatory bartering, which Sharon loves and which I, of course, can't stand, and then we were on our way. Another short walk in the afternoon heat and then we were on an abra across the creek. The short journey to the other bank and slightly down-creek was reminiscent of what I'd imagine Venice (the destination for next year's trip) to be like. From there we made our way past shuttered shops, Friday being the holy day and many places closing up, up to the Dubai Museum. At first sight this was a paltry offering, but moving down from the sun-bleached open-air entrance arena to the darker, cooler interior shifted the level of interest, although parts were too dark to actually see in. It was a bit like Ailwee Cave in County Clare! The last port of call was a restaurant called "local restaurant" or something similar, that sold camel burgers. None of that for us, but a refreshing drink and chance to lounge about in cool rooms on rugs and have a chat. Eventually some ice-cream which may or may not have been made from camel's milk did arrive. It was a very relaxing hour or so.

From there it was back to the hotel and a quick turnaround to get in taxis and head back towards Downtown Dubai, to a restaurant called Fazaris at a hotel called The Address. Unfortunately our taxi driver wasn't quite sure where he was headed and a massive traffic jam caused by the breaking at the end-of-the-holy-day delayed us from getting to the restuarant in time for the booking. This wasn't a problem however, and we made our way through the very stylish hotel to meet up with the others, including Pete and Tracy who had booked the meal.

It was good to see the pair of them, ex-pats now based in Sharjah, looking in fine fettle. The food was good and the added bonus was a middle distance view of the fountain show at the foot of the all-conquering Burj Khalifa, towering above us into the hazy night sky, the ultimate statement of manmade Dubai City. Sharon enjoyed sashimi and a Goan prawn curry, while I had tomato soup and lamb rogan josh. Afterwards we returned to the Mina A'Salam, me to bed and Sharon to someone's room for a late snifter. A busy couple of days!

Lads on tour

Sean, Finn and Rowan drove down to Tralee after we left, with Adrian in charge. They spent one night at Edel's before moving on to a mobile home in Castlegregory on north side of the Dingle peninsula. Olivia joined them and it sounds like they had a ball, dashing out to the beach and getting buried in the sand. Neither Finn nor Rowan have stayed in a caravan before (and this was a mobile home, not a caravan, they were quick to point out) so I can only hazard a guess at the extent of Rowan's giddiness. There was a play area just yards from the mobile home and the boys were out in the fresh air at every opportunity: the weather was great but why do they have to be dragged out the door when they're with us?

There were wetsuits in the mobile home which fitted the three lads so Adrian had them down to the beach, boogie-boarding. At first he was just aqua-planing them along the wave-slicked sand but, day on day, he got them all further into the water and started them on their way back to shore on waves. They loved it, even Rowan, and even Finn, despite taking a nosedive off the board and doing a somersault under the water. Needless to say they were reluctant to leave the idyll of County Kerry to return to Athlone. Adrian did a fine job feeding them and keeping them entertained.

After a couple of nights back in Athlone, Adrian brought them up to Dublin for the flight back to Edinburgh. Fortunately Finn wasn't as bad as the last time he flew. He wasn't too happy on the way up but at least he wasn't sick and all of them were lively enough when Angus and I went to pick them up at the airport after their 15 days in Ireland. They were glad to be home but hardly seemed to have missed us and had a great start to their summer holidays.

Parting of the ways

Saturday morning saw us pack up and leave the house by 10am. It was a fine size of house for us and we were able to accommodate visitors too, so we're keen to return in the future. Sharon headed off with Marie and the lads to visit Granny Coen and the Tuam side of the family. They lunched at Rosarie's and also saw Aunty Spaghetti (Annette) and Aunty Birdie (Bernie). Vinnie popped up too, so Finn and Rowan were playing with Luke, who kept calling Angus a "gerbil!" You'd worry if you were up against a gerbil Angus's size!

Later they went on to see Marie's cousin, Michael Gormley and his father Jarlath, brother of Joe Gormley. The boys had some ready playmates, with Rowan as ever mucking straight in to play with Ruadháin (his Irish equivalent). Much to the boys' delight there was a fine spread of sweets and cakes on offer!

Meanwhile, Michael and I drive up to Athlone, had lunch and then slogged our way around Athlone Golf Club, neither of us playing particularly well. It's a long course and I was striking my three wood well off both tee and fairway but some wayward drives on the back nine led to four lost balls and a hefty score. I managed four pars, including the long par 4 16th, so there were a few flashes of decent golf but my wedge play was poor.

We all met up back at the house for a dinner cooked by me. The boys had more fun playing in the cul-de-sac with the Murtagh children then we eventually got them off to bed. Sharon and I were up with Angus and set off at 0930 the next morning, bidding farewell to the big three who were staying on for an extra week. "We'll be crying when you go," vowed Sean, "crying tears of joy!" The drive to Belfast via Dublin on the new roads is so much quicker than before. We were in plenty time for the 1330 sailing to Stranraer.

Angus had a good wander round and about the ship, both inside and on deck. We ate, he played in the soft play and clambered over games machines and eventually we docked in Stranraer around 1630. This may be the last time we do so, as the new Stena Line RoRo port at Cairnryan will soon be completed. (I've just realised RoRo is not in honour of Angus's name for his big brother but must stand for "roll-on, roll-off.") However, this may force us to go the Glasgow route which takes forever to get to Ayr, thanks to the bends and the average speed cameras. Once past Ayr it's quick on a Sunday evening but the first half of the journey was interminable. Angus was a great lad all the way home, not complaining at all. We even headed to Swanston Golf Club for dinner as he was full of beans (and fish and chips).

The house was safe and sound. Not a surprise really, but as we began to hear tales of thunderstorms, torrential downpours and flooding in Morningside, we were glad to find everything intact.

12 trains and counting

I'm in London, staying in East Sheen as a guest of Ali and Gordon. Sean and Finn are on their October week's holiday from school and having a great time with Megan and Freya, which essentially involves a lot of silliness. The boys always seem to have good fun with girls and, similarly deprived of siblings of the opposite sex, the Barnes girls seem to revel in having boys to play off against.

We took the train down yesterday morning, the 0930 from Waverley which arrived at Kings Cross at 1410. It was a quick, smooth journey with the laptop an invaluable aid in keeping the boys entertained. The children had a good play in the local park to shake off the cobwebs of so much travelling (four trains yesterday).

Today we raised the tally with another eight trains! It's Sean and Finn's first experience of the London Underground and they've quickly grown used to the noise and hustle and bustle that seemed so alien to me when I first experienced it over 25 years ago. We went to the Science Museum this morning for a brief look round and some lunch. Museums can be rather ennervating so I don't want to overdo them, but the boys were happy enough with the various interactive exhibits that we looked at.

From there it was a trip across the city and a switch to the Docklands Light Railway to rattle past the multi-storey behemoths of Canary Wharf on our way out to Greenwich. Unfortunately the Cutty Sark is in the midst of repairs just now but we strolled past the impressive stretch of the Maritime Museum and climbed up the path through the park to the Royal Observatory. The boys were quite taken with the Meridian and the notion of standing astride the zero degree line or being in the western or eastern hemisphere. After that we went to a show, "We are Astronomers", in the newish Peter Harrison Planetarium. This was very impressive, like being close-up to an IMAX screen, with great depth to the images. Sean and Finn were a bit wary at first as it got so dark but enjoyed it nonetheless. And we all stayed awake!

We wandered back down to the station and then made our way back via Bank and Waterloo, just avoiding the worst of the rush hour. The boys have been very good so far at staying close by me and have probably enjoyed riding the massive escalators in the Tube most of all!

Leaving Las Vegas

Sharon will shortly be leaving Las Vegas, hopefully not dressed in an Elvis jump suit and parachuting from a plane. We've all missed her this week. She's been away on a Pampered Chef Exec Conference at Caesar's Palace and it sounds like it has been fairly intense. Throw in the jet lag and missing her boys and it makes for a hard week. I've had Michael over to help with the logistics of multiple drop-offs and pick-ups which has meant I've only had to take one afternoon off, for swimming lessons on Tuesday. However, as the sole point man it's been hard work preparing the never-ending smorgasboard of food consumed in the Wallace household and dealing with the nocturnal visits and shouts.

We stopped lifting Finn just before his birthday and he's been doing well - until last night. Hopefully that was just a blip. Angus has been regularly waking well before 0700 and usually triggering Rowan to get up and start to make noise and fuss, especially when his more diligent big brothers send him back to bed because it;s not wake-up time. Rowan reacts to this with his usual good grace; the keening cry and head thrown back and shouting and stomping just to make sure that anyone who had somehow not been disturbed by him and Angus was well and truly awake.

By and large the boys have been fine. Rowan is delighted to have his Papa here, picking him up from nursery, and Finn has just been in his usual, antagonistic, heedless mood. Sean, being that bit older now, has felt his mother's absence a bit more than the others. Angus has been a bit cranky going to bed the last couple of nights but that may be due to him coming down with another cold.

Tonight, as I went to retrieve Angus's baby-grow while he bathed, I was aware of his voice sounding different to what it should. The acoustics were wrong. And there he was, strolling past me in the hall. He had somehow got himself out of the bath. I certainly hadn't heard any clatter and there didn't appear to be excess water on the floor, so how he made a relatively graceful exit from the bath remains a mystery. No-one lifted him out, that's for sure. One of his nappies yesterday had a plum stone in it. That was a consequence of Michael getting to him too late the day before in the garden, before Angus had wolfed down one of the plums off the tree. He's also a devil for throwing things at the moment. Sean had his glasses whipped off and hurled across the living room earlier in the week. And last week I had the sand from my sandal tipped on me as I lay in bed in the morning. He has all the makings of a tyke, that lad.

Deja vu

Sharon's flight has been cancelled so I'm holding the fort until she returns, hopefully on Wednesday. This puts me in a spot of bother as I was due to return to work yesterday so the logistics of ad-hoc childcare beckon.

I've never been a fan of RyanAir's service and having to deal with them through this kind of disruption makes it even more clear what using a low-cost airline really means. Anything other than a completely smooth process and you're going to incur fees. Fees for trying to get through to them at the call centre; fees for receiving text messages should they deign to update you of your travel circumstances; fess to check in online and even bigger fees if you don't check in online and print your boarding pass (on A4 paper).

All the hassle of sorting this out rather detracted from my enjoyment of England stuffing the Aussies by seven wickets last night to win the World 20-20 Trophy. Remarkably, they were the best team and deserved to win their first world ICC event. Could they carry that confident approach into next winter's Ashes down under? It would be great if they could!

Nine plus five

I´m comin´home, I´ve done my time...

Volcanoes and easyjet permitting, we should be returning to Newcastle tomorrow and back in Edinburgh by late afternoon after our extended stay in Mallorca. Sean was rather disappointed, and so was I, as the forecast for the next few days is good and we had a great day at the beach yesterday in Porto Cristo. But enough is enough and when I spotted I was able to transfer our Tuesday flight to an earlier one (tomorrow) I knew it was time to bring our nine days´ plus five extra days´ holiday to an end.

We were fortunate that the house in which we were staying was free for the extra time so the pain has mostly been in the back pocket, paying the extra for the house and car hire. Hopefully the flight money will even itself out. Michael and Marie fly back to Shannon late tonight. So, the packing has been done and the return leg of the journey is about to begin...

Ash Cloud

Suddenly the Eyjafjallajokull volcano is a big name, and not just in the Scrabble sense. As the weekend wore on and the text messages and BBC news built up, it became apparent that first Marie and Michael wouldn't be flying back to Dublin on the Sunday and then we wouldn't be returning to Newcastle on the Monday. On the Friday, Sharon, Marie, Rowan and I walked into C'an Picafort in search of the rather small market. Rowan was in fine fettle, chatting all the way there and back and seemingly well over his bad fall at Port d'Alcudia. He was funny at the Jamaican Bar, where he had to stand on a chair to get to the top of the straw on his strawberry drink. For once he was quiet, needing all his breath to suck up his juice! In the absence of other toys, the boys have been obsessing about the iPod, especially the "Boys Like Girls" playlist I compiled for them before we left. Rowan has been singing "Skater Boy," Finn "I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker," and Sean anything that requires heartfelt rendering. Angus has been cruising about the furniture but is getting a bit fed up of being penned in the living space as we cannot allow him out to the hall because of the open nature of the staircase.

On Saturday we returned to Pollensa en masse in search of the Fiera de Abril de Pollensa, a local fiesta. We got into the Restaurant Macondo just as it opened and weren't disappointed on our return. The Argentinian girl running the place was surprised to see us back with four children in tow, claiming she thought we were like honeymooners when we had been in on Wednesday! We had been celebrating the tenth anniversary of our engagement that day. For a mere €44 we had another fine feast between the seven of us (Angus brought his own). Rowan and Finn put away big bowls of bolognaise while the rest of us tucked into cod and ribs. The boys explored a nearby playpark while Marie and Michael explored a local wine-tasting then, after a wander round the main square, we returned to the tented fair and accompanying amusements.

There was a free session on the car rides and Rowan exploited it to the full. By the time we left later in the evening, Rowan had been on ten of the eleven vehicles, making up for all those times we deny him the pleasure outside supermarkets! The only word to describe the look on his face was "glee," his dimples drilling holes in his cheeks as he sat behind the wheels or astride the motor bikes on the up and down circuit. Sean was bawling as he shared the first ride with Rowan, despite being the oldest child on there. He clamed down to have another few shots but Finn just didn't fancy it at all. Rowan even went on the mini big wheel, pure delight on his face as he was hoisted high above us all. The others went on the bouncy shark which had a moving mouth that "ate" the children and allowed them to slide down the gullet. Rowan was less enamoured with that one, mainly because he couldn't climb up and hang on as well as Sean and Finn. There was a local Mallorquin band playing in the tent and, judging by the look of the long bar laid out, it had the makings of a long and potentially messy evening if you were staying in Pollensa. We weren't and had children to mind so sadly had to pack up and head for home, Rowan howling at having to leave the amusements behind. I know how he felt!

Yesterday, Sharon and Michael headed to Alcudia in search of an Internet cafe and found free access at the library where they booked a flight to Shannon for Friday. Unfortunately, Sharon had a run-in with a foul-mouthed waiter that rather spoilt her day. I was at the house playing with the boys. We brought small balls with us and are having great fun playing "multi-ball" in the space in front of the garage: kicking the balls against the walls and each other and throwing them up on to the balcony to catch them when they roll back down.

With our flight confirmed as cancelled last night we didn't have to pack but Sharon and I headed up to Palma today anyway, to check things out at the airport and extend the car hire. There's talk of the British Navy sending ships to northern Spain but I don't fancy attempting a return by ferry and overland across Europe so we're staying put. There's no-one due in the house, we've negotiated a €100 per night extension and I was able to book a flight for eight days hence so we'll just have to sit it out and hope the cloud lifts and flights resume. I'm hoping that there will be spaces available on flights next weekend as there must be people who didn't get out this weekend who were due to fly back next weekend but aren't here. However, it'll take a few days for the booking systems to reflect this. Sharon and I did a shop in the Carrefour hypermarket before returning to C'an Picafort but resisted the temptation to buy a pig's head or ears!

Travel to Mallorca

Our trip out was lengthy, but not too bad, all things considered. With the passports having arrived on Thursday, we were finally clear to get packed and get on our way at Saturday lunchtime, stuffing the cases and the children into the car and driving to Newcastle on a very pleasant spring afternoon. The flight was a little late in leaving but the staff possibly took pity on us and fast-tracked us on to the Easyjet flight ahead of most people so we were able to get six seats together. Finn didn't enjoy the descent to Palma: his ears really hurt.

The walk from the plane to baggage reclaim in Palma is very lengthy but the boys had a great time messing on the long moving pavements. Our enthusiasm waned in the 75 minute car-hire queue however. Record-Go were the cheapest to book and the lengthy queue at their kiosk was considerably more than all the other kiosks put together. Car hire on Mallorca is a bit of a swizz, as most companies charge a full tank of petrol on top of the price you have agreed, even though there is little chance of you using a fulll tank. WIth us needing two cars that was €80 per car on top of the €160 we were paying for each car, not to mention the €36 insurance. It all adds up.

It was almost 11pm local time when we set off to cross the island. I took Finn who fell asleep soon after while Sharon found herself negotiating some out of the way roads while Sean enquired concernedly as to whether she knew the way. We both arrived in C'an Picafort via our separate routes, where Sharon was greeted by the owner's brother-in-law who spoke no English. The house looked better than we'd imagined: a spilt level villa with tiled floors and stairs and heavy wooden doors inside. And lots of room! Despite it being midnight, the boys had a brief burst of energy before we got Angus and Sean bedded downstairs and Rowan and Finn sharing a bed upstairs, which they seemed remarkably keen to do.

We're here. Now we can relax...

Sleep sliding away

Angus's sleeping has plumbed new depths. Since recovering from his RSV he has been very fractious during the night, save for the night when Sharon was down in Manchester when he slept from 6.45pm through to 5.45am. So he can go a long stretch without needing a feed or to be lifted or to be brought into the bed, but he seems to be easily disturbed, especially once the house goes quiet, and unwilling or unable to go back to sleep. It's not been made any easier the last week as he has been "sleeping" in our room while Michael and Marie have been over, but we can hear him wherever he is in the house once he decides he's awake and needs company. Rowan chipping in with the odd calls in the night for a drink and then wetting the bed isn't helping our mood either. It really is a struggle at the moment, going to bed exhausted knowing that you aren't going to get a good night's sleep.

Sharon was desperately disappointed at the cancellation of the Pampered Chef Leadership Conference down in Manchester. She had to revise her travel plans several times from car to train to bus as the continued big freeze (now the worst in Scotland in fifty years) brought cross-country travel to a standstill. Then, after a two-hour delay following me dropping her off at Edinburgh Airport in -9°C temperatures, she was in the air when Marie got a message that the conference was cancelled on account of the weather forecast for the southern half of England on the Friday and Saturday. With Sharon's recent promotion to Executive Director due to be recognised at the event and the bolster it gives her and those of her team who are attending, she was quite upset that it couldn't go ahead. About forty people did make it (out of an anticpated 300 who were due to travel) so there was an impromptu event and dinner with Sharon having to pick her way north on the Friday, eventually getting trains to Preston and Glasgow and thence to Edinburgh.

Adrian was delayed too, his flight on Wed cancelled after he had checked in. He appeared on Friday but his stay was brief as Sharon drove him through to Prestwick this morning for him to fly to Sweden, which is even colder than here! Sean and Finn and I got our long overdue haircuts yesterday, with Finn looking especially smart now that his mop has gone. I put in a new fluorescent light in the kitchen today and tried to dig out some of the snow as a slight thaw has arrived with the temperature struggling to 3°C. Our metre long icicle has finally crashed from the front gutter, fortunately not impaling any of the children.

Cannes can

On the ferry back from Ireland I was most relieved to see the news that Barclays had agreed to buy Standard Life Bank for £226m. I have mixed feelings about the transaction on a personal level as it does mean a large chunk of my business knowledge going "out the door" as Standard Life divests itself of a banking operation. My relief is at the news being made public so that I no longer having to work "on the inside" on the project. This is what has been keeping me very busy since the start of September with lots of due diligence questions to answer at short notice and various levels of legal-ese to untangle and understand.

One consequence of the Bank work was that my boss Derek and I had to cancel our trip to the Gartner EA Summit in London. As an alternative, we went to the Gartner IT Expo in the south of France instead. On the face of it, a good swap! We flew to Nice via Heathrow on the Sunday and taxied to our hotel, the Novotel Montfleury in Avenue Beausejour, Cannes. It was a decent mid-range hotel, dear enough but a good ten-minute stroll from the edge of the town centre and twenty minutes from the Palais des Festivals where the conference sessions were hosted.

Food prices for a meal for two in Cannes ranged from €35 to €200, the latter being in the old town area nearer the marina and the former in a back street Thai restaurant (they did a fine duck curry). Admittedly the €200 meal featured a rich bouillabaise and a bottle of wine but we stayed away from the really expensive places! On the Tuesday night we went to a gartner reception for UK attendees (and vendors) at the 3.14 Beach Club which was a pleasant place to spend the evening, with the tented interior opening out on to the sandy beach with the waves lapping in a few yards away. All told, Tuesday was a glorious day and a I enjoyed strolling around the marina and the local streets in between the rather turgid Gartner sessions. Some of the yachts and cruisers in the marina were spectacular, with one wooden-decked yacht adorned with all manner of gleaming copper chandlery and several of the cruisers having a "boot" into which one or more reasonably-sized (by Firth of Clyde standards) smaller boats could fit.

On Wednseday lunchtime I took a stroll up to the church at the top of the old town and sat looking out over Cannes. It has a very similar layout to Monaco, the curve of bay edged by the city and the old town on a headland to the west. It was good to have some peace and quiet after the busy months of September and October but it would have been good to have had Sharon with me to share it. Derek and I headed home on the Thursday. The conference wasn't that great, over all, being rather too large (2700 attendees), too diverse and with very few UK attendees so opportunities to network were limited. Still, I'm not complaining. Sitting by the pool reading on Thursday morning or watching the sun set from my balcony on the Tuesday evening sure beat being at work. And I got a good bit of exercise in too, walking up and down to the centre of Cannes from the hotel.

Claregalway

Pat and Margaret's house was ideal for our break in the west of Ireland, with plenty of room both inside and out. The boys had a great time on the big trampoline and Rowan and Sean made great use of the swings although Rowan had an alarming tendency to let go at inappropriate times, sometimes with painful consequences. Where Sean and Finn's legs seemed to be covered with bruises, Rowan goes more for the skint knee option. His knees and shins are decorated with a variety of scrapes, cuts and grazes, typically as the result of a fall on pavements as he tries running in his crocs. He is very sure-footed when clambering about rocks but not when moving at speed over level ground!

The weather in County Galway was much the same as at home, spells of sunshine competing with heavy downpours. At least the boys had plenty toys to amuse themselves with, including their "stretchy monkeys" which were purchased on the back of their haircuts the previous week. We drove out into Connemara on the Monday but the road was slow and bumpy so rather than head to Roundstone and reap the whirlwind of complaining children on the long drive back, we looped round to Spiddal. The boys had fun on the pier and rocks, throwing stones and exploring. We had dinner and a stroll around before heading back to Claregalway.

On Tuesday we drove to the pretty little seaside village of Kinvara before heading to Joan's fine house near Kilcolgan. The boys played mightily with Robert and his toys, especially the marble race, although Finn and Rowan were a bit apprehensive about the two Jack Russells any time they went outside to play. A thunderstorm curtailed any outdoor play as John arrived home and we all had an early dinner. Angus has settled reasonably well into his travel cot but seems intent on draining Sharon of every last drop of milk she can provide. It could be a growth spurt but it seems to have been lasting since he was born. He has been growing 1cm per week!

We headed into Salthill on Wednesday morning for more rock play, a cafe stop as showers loomed and Angus needed fed and then a trip into the amusements as the rain came on. Sean's eyes lit up as I won money on the penny falls but he needs education in the evils of gambling. Putting in 110 cent to win 135 cent is not necessarily a profitable pursuit. The boys also got to go on some car rides. Usually we tell them if the lights are flashing the rides are broken but it was their holday after all! After lunch back at the house, Hannah accompanied me and the big three back to Salthill, to Leisureland, for a swim. Sean and I went down the big water slide, which was for over-7s only. Rowan and Finn had a good time too. In the evening, Hannah babysat while Sharon and I dined at the ultra-stylish g Hotel in Galway. The food was excellent (duck with strawberries to start and John Dory for the main with a great selection of cheeses to finish) and it was relaxing to get away from everyone to spend an evening together.

Thursday was granny and grampa day as we frittered away the morning before driving into Tuam, negotiating another hold-up on the way. There have been numerous diversions and jams on our travels this week. We went first to see Granny Coen, who had met Angus at the house when Joan brought her on Sunday. The boys did some exploring round the back. Next we visited Joe Gormley, now happy in a nursing home in Tuam. He was delighted to hold his latest great grand-child and is still planning on being around to bring up the century in 2013. On our return to Claregalway I cooked dinner for ourselves and Rosie, Pat and Orla.

Friday was christening day for Angus Ian Wallace. We had a private christening at the church in Claregalway, with Michael and Marie standing as godparents. Olivia and Sasha arrived, with Olivia meeting Angus for the first time. Sean, Finn and Rowan weren't at their best in the church, taking the opportunity to run wild amongst the vast empty pews with Edel and Adrian in pursuit. Finn was absent from the photo Sasha took, as ever deciding that he would get more attention by running off. We returned to the house for a christening lunch of chicken and salads as the showers threatened once more. Angus retired to his bed, having been impeccably behaved throughout the short service, getting the oil on his chest and head and the water poured on his head without complaint. We had a good family day, the bigger lads loving the attention from all their aunts and uncle. Norrie popped in too.

Saturday was a bit of a lazy day and it was well into the afternoon before we got our act together to head to Tracht beach, a grey-sand bay west of Kinvara. Sean and Finn wasted no time in stripping down for a paddle, although taking their clothes off before they were in the sea would have been a better option. Rowan is still no great fan of paddling. His time will come. We met up with Adrian in Kinvara, had a stroll round, then the boys had pizza by the quayside. In the evening, we returned to the g Hotel with Michael, Marie and Adrian for another fine meal, Sharon tucking into lobster ravioli, Marie having a fine monkfish lasagne and me opting for the sea trout on a smoked haddock mash. Adrian and Michael both had the chicken. Yum. In fact, the food has been very tasty this week, with the chickens, potatoes and carrots far more flavoursome than at home. We've made a couple of chicken broths that were just packed with flavour compared to stocks we would make at home.

We began the long drive home at 1015 on Sunday, heading north up the N17 to Sligo then heading across country to Belfast, stopping off for lunch at Enniskillen which was largely closed except for the sprawling Killyhelvin Hotel which was mobbed. We managed to secure a decent carvery lunch in good time and meet up with Pat and Margaret who seemed to have had a good time in Scotland. We cut it a little fine for the remaining 82 miles to the boat but we made it in good time on the motorway. The boys ran about daft on the boat before we had our picnic tea then we drove up from Stranraer in just over 2.5 hours, taking an eternity to get past Ayr but speeding up considerably thereafter. Finn remained awake and had a delighted look on his face to be the last child standing (or sitting) as his brothers slumbered while he was fed snacks by Sharon. Rowan transferred to bed quite well, Sean read a bit and Finn was ready for his sleep as we arrived home at 2230 after a long day's travelling.

Flying high

Rowan was sick last week for the first time that we can recall. Colds and chesty coughs, yes, but vomting, no. He's been off his food for a few days but seems to be regaining his appetite now. Whatever he had he must have passed on to Finn who threw up on Thursday night, fortunately just after I'd got him up for his wee so he was able to return to the bathroom rather than make a mess of his bed.

With swine flu predicted to reach epidemic proportions, we had our concerns when it turned out a girl who had been cuddling Angus last week was subsequently diagnosed as having swine flu. He doesn't seem to have developed any symptoms although his features are a tad porcine, the rate at which he's fattening up.

There was no sickness or tears on the flight to Dublin on Saturday morning, as I roused Sean, Finn and Rowan at 0600 and marshalled them into a taxi (Edina cabs - good service and rate!) and through the airport. Sitting on the tarmac for 30 minutes was a bit tedious as Rowan doesn't do sitting still with a seat-belt on, but we got to Ireland without mishap, despite Sean and Finn being initially apprehensive about flying. Both were fine. Michael met us and we were whisked down to Athlone in record time, the new road shaving a good 45 minutes off the trip. Rowan was a bit tired and irritable (shouting "I want to go to my house!" ad infinitum) but the appearance of Edel and Adrian soon livened the boys up.

Sharon had her big moment at the conference, delivering the closing motivational speech to around 770 delegates. Despite early nerves where she thought she was going to snap the podium through gripping it too tightly, she came good and got a standing ovation at the end with many people suitably inspired and telling her as much afterwards. She didn't have time to bask in the glory though, having to head off to Holyhead to catch the boat to Dublin, negotiating various thunderstorms en route. She arrived in Dublin Port at 0100 and Athlone at 0230 so she is a little tired today to say the least. Angus travelled well and will be the first Wallace boy, at only seven weeks, to notch up a complete set of Scotland, England, Wales, Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. I think I was 35 before I ticked Wales off my list and that was only an afternoon playing cricket just across the border from Chester!

For those about to rock

The day has dawned bright and clear here in Ireland and I'm off to Naas with Olivia to celebrate AC/DC in all their hoary glory with some 70,000 other punters at Punchestown Racecourse. It's been a very peaceful morning for me with no children to attend to so I've relaxed with a long lie in and then read the paper in the sun-trap to the rear of the house. Don't tell Sharon, she might be a tad envious.

I flew in yesterday morning with Finn and Rowan who were well behaved on the flight over. Finn was crying a little to start with but did calm down after a few minutes while Rowan talked the whole way here and the whole way to Athlone, it sounds like, as he and Finn completed their journey at the end of the afternoon, picked up by Michael and Marie. In between Olivia and I took them over to Deer Park at Stillorgan by Mount Merrion where they had a great runaround and a picnic in the shade. We enjoyed a glorious day in the sun while Sharon, Sean and Angus were left in the mist and rain of Edinburgh.

The boys left me with barely a backward glance and will be returning to Scotland later in the week. Olivia and I had a tasty veggie dinner at Cornucopia in town then a wander round Grafton St and its environs before stopping for a drink in the Long Hall in Great Georges St, which brought back memories of cricket tours long past. Now it's time to get on the bus and join the massed crowds heading for an ear-blasting at Naas. Here's hoping I return in one piece!

Domestic duties

We are considering whether or not to embark on another round of building work. We had plans approved in November 2005 but we only implemented a reduced scheme, namely to convert the attic. To extend to the side or rear feels like a bigger, more expensive piece of work, but we may as well test our appetite for it by revising the plans and getting a quote. Given the current dire economic forecast we may struggle to extend the mortgage at a reasonable rate, so any plans may have to remain a dream for now. Planning permission on the original scheme runs out on November 2010 so we have a couple of years yet.

Aside from potential big expense, the small expenses keep on coming. Our trusty Bosch washing machine broke down after 7 years service and the fan oven has been out of commission since early in the summer. The Bosch needed the brushes replaced to drive the motor to drive the belt to make the drum turn to wash and spin the clothes. The oven needed (another) new element. It's the second replacement since we bought the oven with Sharon's "Caeserean money" in 2003. Sharon treated me by getting the hedges cut when I was at work (one less autumn chore to do) and we had a long overdue carpet shampoo too, restoring the bedrooms and living room to something like their best. So shoes off the next time you visit!

Alas, Europe lost the Ryder Cup 16.5-11.5 to the USA at Valhalla. There was some great golf played, especially on the Saturday, but the Sunday was a bit of an anti-climax with Europe never really threatening to overturn the 9-7 deficit and the US team showing far more determination and ability than in their last two record thrashings. At least the competition is alive and kicking once more as Europe's five wins out of the last six, whilst always enjoyable, had rather taken the sting out of beating the US. Scott appeared for a brief supporting session on the Saturday before the requirements of fatherhood drew him home. The advantage of the venue being Stateside this year meant I could watch most of the matches with the boys in bed, making use of the V+ recording feature too.

I was in London for a couple of days this week, attending a Gartner Enterprise Architecture Summit at the plush Royal Lancaster Hotel by Hyde Park. We were staying at the Washington Mayfair and enjoyed a fine Spanish meal on the Monday night and a stroll to work across Hyde Park on the Tuesday. It's a nice part of the city but you'd need a couple of million just to buy a bedsit!

Greetings from the suite

Is 13 euro too much for a beer? It certainly would be if you were drinking a few, but we can perhaps allow the suite winner the exception of one. Our four days in Monte Carlo was enjoyable, more for the break and the company than the location itself. Sharon coming out on top and clinching the sumptuous 750 euro-a-night suite certainly eased the "pain" of having to spend so long in a tax haven where the local shops were either selling Cartier or Ferraris.

We met up in Jury's Inn at Hatton Cross last Wednesday night, Sharon having had a great time meeting up with Katherine for the first time since just after the Athens Olympics. After a decent kip we headed to Heathrow and met up with some of the other Level 3 achievers who were flying out to Nice. The transfer to Monaco brought the first glimpses of the Principality. It is very built-up and much steeper that I thought, especially for somewhere that hosts a Grand Prix. We wandered round the block on arrival and found a cafe for the first of several (tinned) tuna nicoise salads (as we discovered in Grenoble, French cuisine may be much lauded but gluten-free food seems to be a challenge they haven't risen to). As we checked in back at the Hotel Hermitage, the receptionists muttered amongst themselves and went to fetch Vanessa, Denny and Chris who led us to the suite amidst much excitement.

The suite was quietly situated down in the basement with a spacious private terrace. The only downside was the lack of a view but given the two large cranes between the Hotel Hermitage and the harbour, this was no great loss. The suite was very tastefully decorated in creams, limes, browns and purples, with a large sitting room, bedroom and separate changing room and bathroom. But no bidet. The terrace proved to be ideal for relaxing before dinner, especially once Sharon asked for the mini-bar to be cleared and we re-stocked with wine, olives and garlicky octopus from a local supemarket.

Cafe de Paris was the venue for the first evening, rooftop drinks overlooking the famous Monte Carlo casino being followed by an excellent meal, the highlight being a sea-bass fillet with broccoli risotto wrapped in a parmesan crisp. After a brief look at some of the fancy cars parked out front we headed to bed early. Bars and nightlcubs hold little appeal at the best of time these days: even less so when they are charging a fortune for a drink. The following morning we caught the train along to Ventimiglia in Italy for the Friday market, an extensive affair featuring all the usual fakes, tablecloths, old-men trousers, shoes, household goods and so on. As ever, the best bit for us was the food market with a splendid variety of fruit and veg - courgettes with wonderful flowers; round, plump aubergines; fat fennel - and some fish stalls that would bring a tear to a glassy swordfish eye. The variety of squid and local fish and shellfish makes you wonder why, as an island nation, we really have to seek out the few places that sell quality seafood. After a leisurely mushroom risotto lunch we returned to Monte Carlo to greet the second wave of arrivals, which featured two of Sharon's team, Morven and her husband Gordon, and Sarah. Lesley, who was also there, had made Level 3 and was with us from the start, along with her husband Paul.

That evening we entertained the Scottish crowd (mostly) on the terrace before we all bussed along to the Beach Resort, a palm tree fringed sun-deck arranged around a 50m pool in the east of Monte Carlo. The increase in numbers from 80 to 300 meant a more boisterous atmosphere and correspondingly poorer fayre but no-one ended up in the pool which was an achievement in itself. The open-air setting for the meal was quite spectacular as the lights came on in Monte Carlo.